The Library

   Probably the best kept secret of the world was the Library. 

   The Library was an infinite pocket dimension containing books on anything and everything. It had been managed by young female individuals trained in the art of Knowledge since the Beginning. 

   Every woman in Alaria’s family had been taught the art of Knowledge and, as such, they had run the Library since the Beginning. Alaria herself was due to start her training in a few hours, specifically her sixteenth birthday. 

   But she sat in a chair for now, reading the unabridged biography of the first Librarian. It was one of the larger books from that time period, about three million pages. Of course, the current books were around four million on average, so she couldn’t complain. 

   Alaria looked up at the old-fashioned clock hanging over the reading center. 

   Just three more hours. 

   She went back to reading her book, slowly drifting off to sleep as she did. 

“Alaria!” came a sharp voice. “Alaria, wake up!”

   Alaria jolted upright, groaning as the soreness that came from sleeping on a chair overtook her. “Mama, two minutes more, that’s all, I promise.”

   In response, the Librarian dragged her daughter out of the chair and through the rows of bookshelves. After a minute, Alaria was lost, which was odd. She thought she knew the Library by heart. 

   They stopped and Alaria’s mother gently pulled a book off of one of the shelves and handed it to her daughter. Looking down at it, Alaria noticed it didn’t have a title. 

   She opened the book, frowning when her nose detected the scent of freshly printed paper. She had never encountered a new book at the Library. 

   Alaria read the first paragraph aloud, “Alaria Thittle, child of the Library, Killer of the Existence, orphan. This is the story of her.” Alaria sucked in a breath. “Mama, what is this? I’m not an orphan, nor the Killer of Exis—“

   The Librarian carefully extracted the dagger from her “daughter”‘s solar plexus. She watched Alaria fall with no emotion in her eyes. 

   As the girl lay, dying, the Library started to shake. Book fell off shelves, paintings fell into fireplaces, furniture overturned. 

   “What’s happening!” screeched the Librarian. She picked up Alaria’s biography and flipped to the end, which was still writing itself. 

   “In truth, the girl was not the Killer of the Existence, but her death. Of course, the Librarian killed her, immediately before she would’ve started her training. You may be wondering how a mother could kill her daughter. In truth, the Librarian was not the girl’s mother, the girl’s true mother a maid at the Library who disowned her.”

   The Librarian slammed the book shut as it finished its last sentence, marking the death of Alaria. 

   The Existence imploded merely a second later, proceeding to release that energy in a phenomenon that humans call “The Big Bang.” The Library was lost to time. 

The End.